Legacy's Champion
by Mandalore159
Summary: War seeps across the earth like a cancer, ready to consume all it touches. At the heart of this war is the organization: Doma. The entity of evil Dartz left behind has returned to complete his mission Rated for violence, mild drug use, and implied adult c
1. The Front Line

Obviously I do not own this, so keep it out of your heads that I do. Got it? excellent, now enjoy this story, which happens to be my first.

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><p>The air was filled with fire.<p>

Fire that consumed all, with either its hands of smoke or its all-encompassing grip of flame, it consumed the moor. The moor had once been another dried up lake in eastern Ukraine, with snow, grass and a few trees here and there. That was no more.

Fire consumed the moor.

The voices of screaming soldiers, and the battle calls of the monstrosities were heard all across the deserted plain, joining together in a never-ending cacophony of blood. The dead lied at all angles, either forgotten or used as cover for the exchange of bullets and greenish energy blasts. Some of the monstrosities even ate the bodies for sustenance. Even the humans did; there was nothing left except the rotting meat of their friends.

She ran across the gory dance between man and monster and aimed her assault rifle at another thing, another of the monsters. They were always the same, with their olive skin, and archaic armor. They had once been human; all of them, in another life; but that was no more. They now wandered the earth looking for the immortal souls of men to give to their master and the mortal bodies of men for their food. So it had been for 10,000 years and so it is today. They had come, and refused to be stopped.

At least that's what they wanted you to think. Deep down the creatures had a latent intelligence that almost, if you observed them, seemed to make them smarter than us. Or maybe not. It didn't matter anyhow, there was no way to compromise with them, not that she wanted to; the monsters had torn each of the friends she had with her to shreds, feasting on their meat and taking their souls for themselves. It was disgusting, it was horrible, but it as many of these things are, it was indeed a fact.

She turned to the monster and unloaded another burst into its face. The face on these things was the most vulnerable spot: the torsos were wrapped up in armor and the arms and leg injuries were disregarded as fodder. No, you had to shoot the face; it was the only way. She watched the thing drop in front of her before eyeing another one take her into its attention. '_Same old same old'_ she thought to herself, inwardly sighing at the repetitiveness of the act. But they had to do it. They had to kill the things so they couldn't advance any farther into Europe and destroy everything those people had built. It was just….._boring as fuck._

She watched the lumbering monstrosity ready a blast of the green energy she had seen so many times before, and had seen kill her friends so many times before that. It let the blast loose into her face, and with a scream that was about as inhuman that screams could get, charged at her, its pace nipping on the heels of the blast itself.

She rolled to the side and watched the energy turn the body of the thing she had just killed into dust. Flaming, stinking, vomit inducing _dust_. She raised her gun into the offending monsters face and let loose a burst of ammo. The thing seemed to be genuinely surprised when it connected and tore its face to shreds. It even held its wrist scythe up to defend itself after the bullets hit. There was nothing it could do to change the fact.

She dove behind a group of rocks and pulled a syringe from her hip pack. They all had to take them if they were to survive, and she did just that, injecting the stimulant into her thigh for what seemed the millionth time that week. Day in and day out it was no different. Wake up in barracks, get shipped out to yet another battlefield, and shoot yourself up with drugs all day so that you could shoot up an army of monsters that seemed to come right out of a horror novel.

Finishing that, she crushed the now useless syringe beneath her boot, and took a second to take in the scene around her. It was carnage, complete bloody carnage. The piles of bodies had grown so thick that human and monster simply fought on a ground made of their dead, separate in battle but all made equal in the end.

A roar of challenge caused her to whip around in shock. A rather large one of the things stood on the very outcropping that she had hidden behind not moments earlier, its eyes glowing red, that damn hexagram on its forehead. _ 'Just like all of the others'_ she thought sadly. It jumped out at her, its speed and agility surprising. It shouldn't be like that; it should be slow and clumsy. But it was. She had by now learned not to be surprised by the ability and agility of the Orichalchos Soldiers.

She brought her gun up to defend against it, but it had her number; it dug its blade into her guns side and continued to use its muscles to cut the thing in half. She stumbled back, bewildered. _'This one is stronger than the others.' _She thought _'it did that like a hot knife would cut butter.' _Her musings were cut short, however when it reached for her, its hand glowing with the same sick energy they all possessed, the power of the Orichalchos stone. She rolled to the left and brought her hidden knife into its unarmored side, wounding it. But it wasn't enough. The thing backhanded her with its blade sending her flying with its strength.

She heard someone cry her name, but didn't bother to respond, the distraction would get her killed. She instead chose to do the logical thing at that point; lob a grenade at the fucker. That would show whoever replaced _him _that they were still willing to fight, that they were still willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that her fathers ideal of destruction never came to pass.

A voice squawked in her ear " All units fall back and brace for airstrike." The voice as always was crisp calm and uncaring. They all had to be like that; radio controllers couldn't show any favoritism for a single battalion, for after all, what does a bishop care of the life of a pawn? Exactly.

But she couldn't back down now. She had to kill this one more, so that it couldn't kill her, or her comrades anymore. She looked up at the thing lumbering towards her, and threw the grenade at it.

Much to her dismay the thing swatted it out of the air like it was nothing, like it was a fly, and kept coming. She growled and drew a machete from her pack. The sharp sword would give her an edge against it, but not much of one. The thing swung its wrist scythe at her, and she was again reminded of the resemblance it bore to a Duel Disk: it looked just like one, down to the five slots for cards. But not everything could be solved by a children's card game, in fact it was a wonder that as one such as Duel Monsters has solved as much as it has in the past, most of the time by people she knew, or rather once had.

The thing struck at her again, breaking her reverie, and knocked the machete from her hands. Now she had nothing, and could only stare as it raised the blade, preparing to deliver the deathblow. Its eyes flashed and it moved the angle of its wrist. It had orders from its master; it was going to torture her first. The thing gripped her fragile, small body with its free hand and brought the blade down into the right side of her face, cleaving into her skull, and cutting her jawbone in two, blood spurting from the gristly wound. Before she could register what happened. it spun her around and dug the pointed front of the blade into her back. She gasped as she was thrown to the ground like trash, and felt like so. She had let her friends, her adopted father and more importantly her quest to end this menace down. Her vision grew red as her uninjured eye filled with blood. And the last sensation that went into Chris Mackenzie's body as she faded into nothingness was a warm human hand pulling her up, and the sound of the jets, as they turned the moor into the fiery hell it was.

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><p>Well then, wasn't that fun? more to come, and expect heavy development of this character, who isn't dead, btw.<p> 


	2. Musings

**And, back with part 2. The usual warnings apply. i have decided to take this story in a whole new direction. not that any of you care. just how i like it.**

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><p>There was nothing. Nothing at all. All existence had warped and re formulated itself into a blank space. Literally. All there was and all there will ever be was white. And lots of it. Not a single soul existed in this empty space, but one. It felt lonely there, not knowing where it is or what it was, but that was all there is. A blank nothing designed to hold tight its prisoner to the end of time.<p>

At least that's what she thought.

She held onto that thought for longer than she could think possible, mulling over and prying it apart until it became all that she is. It helped her, letting her forget that she was alone, that she was a prisoner.

In the end the thought seemed to fold in on itself and become something more. From this she realized something else. To her mind this was the most stunning thing she had ever thought.

She existed

She held onto this longer than the other thought, and eventually one replaced the other, and that was the end of it. She knew. She was, and from that she took hope. Hope that she would one day be whole again.

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><p>Yusei Fudo sat in front of the giant television that adorned the northern wall of his living room. The apartment was medium sized, with multiple rooms that all branched off of one another to the point that the place became nothing more than a maze to get lost in at times. He sat back into the black leather couch, and contemplated how he had gotten here. He had experienced his share of adventures and had his 15 minutes of fame. But that was all over now. It had been over for a year, and the only one he ever had contact with on a semi regular basis was Trudge. How sad.<p>

The walls of the apartment had been painted a dark navy blue to the point where they seemed as black as night. It suited his mood. He was not angry, bored, or happy, he was simply… tired. Tired of the world and all of the shitty surprises it kept throwing at him.

He sighed and finished off another beer. Heineken or something. Not that it mattered, nothing seemed to matter right now, for the world has reared its ugly head and proved how cruel it could be, even to one that was supposed to be its savior. Or one of them at least. There were many before the signers he knew. They had all essentially done the same thing; identify a problem that threatened the balance of the world or man, or even just someone they loved, and righted it. Nothing more than that, just little heroes doing things that they should never have to do.

He was sick of it. He was sick of it all. They had disbanded, the signers, never to be seen as a group again. Oh sure they had given off lame speeches on how they would always stay connected as friends and all that, but nothing had come out of it. It was all just empty words crafted to fill the air with beautifully sounding lies.

Then it was over. They had gone their separate ways, all of them, and had thought nothing of it. Crow, Leo Luna, Azkia… Jack. All gone now all reseeded into the brightest most populated hiding spots the world could offer. Well, all but one.

Jack Atlas was found dead in the middle of Domino square the night before, his head separated from his shoulders, and an irregular symbol carved into his chest. The symbol was a unicursal hexagram, within a ring of smaller, runic symbols. The police had dismissed it as nothing more than the deranged practices of another satanic cult, nothing more. "Poor old Jack had just gotten mixed up in it," was all they said. "Nothing to be concerned about. "

He laughed at their stupidity. They were either blind or corrupt to the point where they denied the fact the absolute fact that this was the symbol of Doma. Doma was an organization with records of its existence dating back to the days of the Roman Empire, where a Teal Haired man had whispered poison into the ears of many politicians. Countless more witness statements, and photographs, once buried, now brought to light, revealed that Doma had been active since then, to the point where Suspected members were seen with the likes of Hitler and Stalin, Zedong, and Marx. All of the little fuckers that society hated, and still hates had a connection to this conglomerate.

And the Teal Haired man, who could forget about him? He had been revealed around 26 years ago to be the president of the Paradius banking conglomerate, Dartz. According to the witnesses of the incident, he was the undead king of Atlantis who had been wandering the earth for 10,000 years harvesting human souls to feed his pet, which was supposed to be an unstoppable engine of destruction.

And no one believed them. Even though the now deceased but then very much alive and popular CEO of KaibaCorp, Seto Kaiba had testified to the truth of these claims. And he had the reputation of being the biggest skeptic in the world.

Yusei didn't know what to believe. All he knew was that a terrorist organization operating out of Russia had adopted the name and logo of the now defunct Doma organization, and had begun sending armies across Eurasia to …do what? Conquer it? Enslave it? Or to simply finish what Dartz had started thousands of years ago?

The questions had been floating around the media and politicians for months, before it became old news. Yes there was a war on that continent, and do we care? No. No one cared one bit.

And now here lies poor old Jack, dead and this organizations' seal on his chest, and the Domino City authorities just ignored it? It made him sick.

He wanted to lean over and puke, it made him so sick to know that these people could just write this off as nothing? It wasn't nothing to him. It was something. And he intended to find out what.

He looked up at the TV and listened in numbed disinterest as the newscaster rattled off another familiar story of the troops sent into Ukraine to prevent Doma's army from advancing, who had valiantly held them off, but at too high of a price: ¾ of the battalion killed. And that wasn't the end of it. Doma was reaching over the world and nothing seemed to be able to stop it.

He couldn't just sit there and let it happen. He had to do something, but what? He didn't want to contact the old crew, the only one of them he had even considered a true friend was resting on a slab in the city morgue. So he was alone. Alone in this quest for the truth.

Yet here he sat, getting drunk and feeling sorry for himself. He smirked, and in that instant the thing Yusei hated most of all was… himself.

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><p>She had been trying for what seemed like forever, and it finally happened. She opened her eyes. She felt like a person again, floating naked and alone in the white nothing. And as she looked around and took in what she looked like and what everything else looked like, she remembered something… something important.<p>

"My name… is Chris," she whispered to herself, taking comfort in the sound, and never letting go of it.

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><p><strong> Lovely. more to come. This is how I imagine Yusei to be if all he fought for was for nothing. If I had my choice the categories for this would be RedemptionIntrigue. I shall cease my rambling now.**


	3. All That's Left

**Less response than i had hoped, but whatever. Thx to the 2 who fav'd.**

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><p>It was killing her, slowly but surely. She would watch in horror as it ate into her flesh, painfully dissolving it into itself. Then, when she thought it would destroy her completely and pull her from this prison into the cold comfort of oblivion, it would recede, reluctantly giving up to her the flesh it had eaten. Chris was now numb to it. It had happened like this over an over again, this cycle of eat, recede, eat, and recede, went in day in and day out.<p>

She took comfort from this, for she could use it. From this cycle, she measured time. It took and hour to almost completely engulf her and 20 minutes for her to retake the flesh that was rightfully hers from the white.

In this she measured out three weeks of this torment. She watched in interested indifference at the nothing dissolving her arm, now clothed in the bloody combat fatigues she had been in when she was sent here.

From that she remembered. She remembered the Orichalchos soldiers' face as it cleaved its scythe into her own face, how its eyes had flickered with light, before, as it received a command. The command to torture her before it killed her.

This command was significant to her. It bugged her to no end how she could not comprehend the reason behind it. '_Or rather_' she mused, she didn't want to understand, for she did. All to well. The person or persons that were commanding these things had recognized her, and had wanted her to suffer. Why, she did not know, but the fact remained that they did.

She did not want to know why. She had tried so had to seem like just a soldier in the army conglomerate, just another grunt sent into the fray to be a sacrifice on the altars of war. Just another faceless nobody sent to die.

She didn't want to die; she had a lot to live for. But at times like this it all seemed to pale in comparison to… everything. There was nothing and there will never be. Not in this prison at least.

And with this, Chris leaned her head back and screamed into the white, she screamed as loud as she could, so as it could be a receptacle for all the anger, hate, pain, and loss she felt right then. Yet for all of her efforts, no sound escaped her mouth.

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><p>About one month later:<p>

Yusei walked down the streets of downtown Domino city. The spectacle he saw before him had at one point been the focal area of Neo Domino, the shiny mask the politicians had placed on the city after the Zero Reverse. He looked around at his handiwork, the results of the effort he put into reuniting all-powerful Neo Domino and its pathetic satellite, or so they said. Now as he looked over the city he saw how right and at the same time how pitifully wrong he was.

They had combined true, but they were nothing more than a mere shadow now. The worst parts of both cities had seemed to combine together forming a pit of shiny new corruption that the politicians had continued to take advantage of, like nothing had happened. Domino city was whole again, but as before, it was a dying cesspit.

He looked around, the streets were flooded with businessmen, drug dealers, homeless, and prostitutes. All intermingling as if nothing was wrong with the conglomerate, as if everything was as it was in the beginning, when Pegasus was the undisputed king of his own game, and Yugi Muto was a crying toddler.

Those days were gone, long gone. And in there place was… _this._ This disgusting, filthy thing that had taken the face of humanity and wrapped itself up in it like a protective blanket.

Yusei hated it. He had come to hate much in the weeks since Jacks death; Doma, This city, People in general, and most of all, _himself._ He hated it all. He was so filled with hate; he had taken his Sig Sauer in hand each night since then, and considered ending it. But each time he chose not to. He knew why, and the reason would never change. He was a guardian, plain and simple, and as long as he was needed, he would have to remain, as much as he hated the fact.

He looked up at where his walk had taken him. He never seemed to end up in the same place each night, just at a different part of the fucked up city that meant as little to him as the gilded half before it. This time however he found himself intrigued at where his musings had led him. It was an old, irregularly shaped building that had the words _Kame Game _printed on the front in decaying letters that were in severe need of a touch up.

_'So this is where it began for Yugi, huh?' _he thought to himself. _'Might as well go in. Nothing else to do, or worth doing for that matter. Might get a Duel monsters pack, for old times sake. They're 'bout all I have these days, old times.' _ He felt himself slipping into the depressing state of mind he had recently adopted, and forced it out of his head vehemently, not wanting to let his despair and rage show upon his face.

He opened the door slowly, taking care to look at all of the stuff packed into the floor of the old shop. A tired looking man sat behind the counter looking at the newspaper disinterestedly. As the door clanged shut, the man looked up in feigned interest.

"What can I get you?" he asked, the politeness obviously a strain for him

"Just a pack of cards." Yusei said, "Duel Monsters"

"Haven't heard anyone wanting that for a while."

"It is a bit of a rarity nowadays, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Heh. Eh, haven't I seen u from somewheres?"

"Doubt it."

"A'm certain I have. What's yer name, pal?"

He sighed in defeat. "Yusei Fudo."

"HA! Knew I've seen you before. You were some big shot a while back, all into the savin' the world shit." The shopkeeper said in triumph.

"I was." Yusei said, now slightly annoyed.

Picking up on this, the shopkeeper put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Didn't mean nothin' by it pal. I was neck deep in that shit too 'yknow?"

"Really." Yusei said letting his disbelief seep into his voice.

"Yea, pal. Names Wheeler. Joey Wheeler, and ive probably seen the same shit you have."

"Hm." Yusei knew the name. This was the best friend of Yugi Muto, and had inherited the old game shop from Solomon, who had been Dead for quite a few years now. And while it was an honor to meet him, Yusei was not in the mood to make new acquaintances. "Ill take the cards now and be going then." He said to end the engagement.

The older man grunted and pulled an older looking pack from behind the counter, and handed it to Yusei. He took them and left without saying another thing.

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><p>She could not take it anymore. It had been eating at her for too long, and she was now ready to do the same to it. Over the last few days (by her measure) the white nothing had been having a harder time eating into her, and had eventually not done it enough to even notice.<p>

But she now knew how to beat it.

It had happened not too long ago, when she had been reflecting on her absurdly long life. She had felt herself growing stronger, and growing into the nothing, getting bigger.

She had begun to eat it.

It was a slow process, taking much longer than it did for it to eat her, but slowly and surely she felt the white nothing that was her prison being absorbed into herself. Now on the brink of being freed she felt the white being diluted into a foggy haze in front of her, and eventually it receded completely. She now could feel. She could think more clearly than ever before.

She was free.

With effort she forced herself to feel what was around her. What struck her immediately was the fact that surprisingly, there was no pain in her back. There should be. The blade of the Orichalchos soldier had seemed like it had gone into her very deep. Her mind was unclouded, so painkillers were unlikely to have been in use at the moment. She was confused.

_'How long have I been out?' _ She thought, now feeling more confused and slightly more apprehensive than before.

She felt something hard and cold against the right side of her face, but hesitated to reach up and touch it. She did not want whoever had her to know she was awake. Yet.

She slowly tried to feel what she was on. After a few seconds of microscopic movements of her fingers across the thing, she was certain that it was a hospital bed.

She finally decided to open her eyes. It was an effort, not helped along at all by the metal plate over her right eye.

'_And by the feel of it I couldn't even open this eye if I wanted to.' _ She thought bitterly, remembering the immense pain that she attributed to the Orichalchos soldier cleaving into her face. The other eye also needed persuasion, but after a few efforts, she opened the offending thing, and was blinded by the bright fluorescent light that had flooded her room. She thought for a second that she was back in the white, but this was something different, this light was as simple as that. Light.

As the world came into focus she saw a form hovering over her. It took her a second to identify it as a female doctor about in her mid-thirties, who had copper-red hair, and a kind, sympathetic face. The doctor looked down at her, and said,

"Hello Ms. Mackenzie, welcome back to the world of the living."

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><p><strong>drew inspiration for her ordeal from my favorite book. care to guess anyone? <strong>

**btw, question. im going to intro some new characters into the story. id like some feedback on wether or not you'd like to see Paradox or Dartz both are gonna appear, i need an order tho. **


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